


would you like to check out my stacks?

by theafterimages



Series: library au [2]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-25
Updated: 2015-03-25
Packaged: 2018-03-19 12:16:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3609774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theafterimages/pseuds/theafterimages
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jongdae suggests a way to keep their coworkers from misusing the reference room and Joonmyun enjoys it more than he'd expected to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	would you like to check out my stacks?

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](http://eveninadream.livejournal.com/1641.html) in November 2013.

Joonmyun should probably be worried that he’s long since learned to recognize Zitao’s shrieks.

“Ssssshhh, this is a library,” he whispers with mock gravity as Zitao and Sehun rush up to the front desk, both wide-eyed with horror.

“I can’t be quiet, I am _traumatized_ ,” Zitao declares, draping himself across Joonmyun’s desk.

“You have to do something, hyung, it was awful,” Sehun says with a shudder.

Joonmyun pats Zitao’s head. “It might help if you told me what I need to do something about.”

“Jongin and Baekhyun are up there-” Sehun begins. Joonmyun glances pointedly at the woman and small children Jongdae is assisting at the desk next to his, and Sehun pauses, then starts using some hand gesture that Joonmyun’s almost afraid to interpret.

“They’re—wait, what?”

“Oh my god, what do you think they're doing, he’s _giving Jongin a hand_ -” Zitao begins in exasperation. Thankfully he lifts his head as he speaks, so Joonmyun is able to cover Zitao’s mouth before he completely scars the children for life.

“Thank you, I get it now.”

“Why didn’t you before?” Zitao looks curiously at his boyfriend. “Sehun, what were you doing?” Sehun repeats the gesture, and Zitao’s brow furrows. 

“You look like you’re stamping library books,” Wonshik adds helpfully as he walks by, giving Zitao a smile on his way.

“It’s _really obvious_ ,” Sehun says, pouting now.

“Where are they?” Joonmyun asks, because they’re all definitely better off returning the conversation to the matter at hand (literally).

“The back of the reference room.”

Which he should have guessed. They’re not the first people to sneak off there during break. Which, speaking of… “What were you two doing up there, anyway?” he asks.

Zitao shudders. “Doesn’t matter anymore. After what I’ve seen, I never want to do anything up there ever again.” Sehun nods in fervent agreement. Given that one of Sehun’s hands is tucked in Zitao’s back pocket and one of Zitao’s is sliding under the side of Sehun’s shirt, Joonmyun somehow doubts that.

“I’ll talk to them,” Joonmyun says.

“That won’t work,” Jongdae says, abruptly leaning over his side of the desk, elbows resting on the edge. (The patrons he was helping are gone, thankfully, the woman having cast them wary, narrow-eyed glances as she shepherded the children away). Joonmyun’s pretty sure the light in Jongdae’s eyes doesn’t bode well for anyone. “It might with Jongin, but Baekhyun won’t listen and he’ll wear Jongin down.”

Which, Joonmyun has to admit, is probably true. “So what do you think I should do?”

Jongdae smiles. “Isn’t it obvious?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Jongdae’s suggestion _is_ obvious, not that Joonmyun tells him so. After all, telling Jongdae why his plan for them to give Jongin and Baekhyun a taste of their own medicine is obvious would mean telling him Joonmyun’s been well aware of Jongdae’s crush on him all along. It’s not the first time something like this has happened—Joonmyun tries really hard to be good to his dongsaengs, and sometimes they get more attached to him than he’d intended. Usually it wears off pretty fast, but Jongdae’s been alternating between starry-eyed stares and metaphorical pigtail-pulling for six months now. Joonmyun should have probably done something about it by now, but he’s been sort of curious to see if Jongdae would ever make a move.

Not that he was expecting this to be it. 

“Now remember, you have to commit,” Jongdae tells him as he follows Joonmyun through the chilly, empty reference room two days later. Jongdae had been the one to pick the day, pointing out that it was the next time Baekhyun and Jongin would be able to go on break together.

_(“You really want to help me?” Joonmyun had asked, to give him a chance to reconsider just in case, camouflaging it by adding, “You’re one of the most helpful employees here, but…”_

_Jongdae had preened under the praise but still tried to look casual as he shrugged in response. Joonmyun had to bite back a smile at the cuteness. “What can I say; I’m too nice for my own good.”_

_“We should give you a medal,” Sehun had deadpanned._

_“You really should.”)_

“Yeah, I know,” Joonmyun says, keeping his eyes on the call numbers so he can find where Zitao and Sehun said Baekhyun and Jongin had been. He had grabbed Jongdae’s hand on their way, and at some point their fingers had become linked. If Jongdae’s nervous it’s not showing in his hands, which are warm but not sweaty, his grip secure. 

“They have to believe it, hyung. I don’t want to have to give a repeat performance.”

“Don’t worry, you won’t have to.” He’s willing to go along with this, but if Jongdae doesn’t finally make his move Joonmyun really is going to have to do something about it. It’s only fair. Joonmyun glances over his shoulder, finds Jongdae undoing his own bow tie with his free hand and tries not to swallow. “We don’t have to do this at all. I can just talk to them.”

“Just talking won’t work, remember?” Jongdae reminds him, tightening his grip on Joonmyun’s hand a bit. It’s nice holding hands with someone whose hands are closer to his size than Sehun’s or Zitao’s, Joonmyun has to admit. “And I want that medal.”

“Do I get one, too?”

Jongdae scoffs. “Please. You get to make out with me. You don’t need a medal.”

“You’re very sure of yourself,” Joonmyun teases, then checks the shelf. “Okay, we’re here-”

Which Jongdae takes as his cue to press Joonmyun back against the bookcase and dive right into a kiss, leaving Joonmyun to do his best to keep up.

Jongdae, Joonmyun discovers, has good reason to be sure of himself. His lips are soft and coaxing, his tongue as clever against Joonmyun’s as it is with words. It’s not that Joonmyun had expected him to be a bad kisser—he wouldn’t have suggested this if he were—but he’d expected him to be a little hesitant, more cute, not... 

It takes Jongdae unbuttoning Joonmyun’s cardigan with nimble—and bony, Joonmyun tells himself, one last attempt to pretend like he isn’t in over his head—fingers to bring Joonmyun back to his senses. “Wait, don’t,” he says before Jongdae can push the garment off. “It’s too cold in here without it.”

Jongdae immediately frowns, resting his hands on Joonmyun’s shoulders. “You’re cold?”

Jongdae’s spent the day in a short-sleeved button-down and shorts; he never seems to notice the building’s temperature. It makes more sense after the last few minutes, which have allowed Joonmyun to feel Jongdae’s body heat for himself. “Not as much near you,” he says, and Jongdae’s resulting smile is blinding.

Now would be a good time to tell Jongdae he knows what he’s doing and let him down easy, Joonmyun knows, except suddenly he doesn’t want to do that at all. “What if I leave the sweater on and do this instead?” he suggests, untucking his button-down. Jongdae’s eyes track the motion, and Joonmyun swallows. “That would be a thing we would do.” The _“If this were real”_ goes unsaid, and Joonmyun’s surprised by how much he dislikes knowing those words linger between them. 

“Because of those abs you want us to think you have?” Jongdae teases, though his heart doesn’t seem to be quite as in it as usual.

“I do have abs,” Joonmyun says, and when Jongdae raises his eyebrows Joonmyun can’t resist adding, “You can check if you want.”

“I can?”

“That would be convincing.” At Jongdae’s blank stare, Joonmyun elaborates, “For when they walk in.”

“Oh. Right.”

Not that Joonmyun gets to be amused for long, since by the time the door _does_ open Joonmyun’s the one so lost in Jongdae’s kisses and caresses that the sound makes him start violently. “Jongdae,” he hisses, detangling himself from Jongdae’s wandering hands.

“Hmm?” Jongdae looks completely dazed as he lifts his head, lips swollen and pupils dilated. It’s on the tip of Joonmyun’s tongue to call the whole thing off and sneak past the other two—he’s not sure what’s happening here anymore but he doesn’t want to turn it into a show for anyone.

But before he can do anything Jongdae slides his thigh between Joonmyun’s and rubs against him, nipping at Joonmyun’s lower lip, and Joonmyun doesn’t quite stifle his startled moan. He can hear a sudden noise—probably Jongin flailing in surprise—and then a short laugh from Baekhyun. “Who’s in here?” Baekhyun calls.

“They’re-” Joonmyun whispers.

“The plan, remember?” Jongdae whispers back. Right. The plan. They definitely have a plan for what to do next—right? He’d ask Jongdae but Jongdae chooses that particular moment to kiss him again and he’d rather go along with that, anyway.

And then Jongin says “ _Hyung_ ,” aghast and _right there_ , and Joonmyun hastily pushes Jongdae back.

Baekhyun does look startled, but it quickly turns into a smirk. “This isn’t very professional, hyung,” he tells Joonmyun.

“We’re avenging the children you scarred the other day,” Jongdae says dryly. Joonmyun’s glad when Jongdae moves back in and wraps his arms around Joonmyun’s waist, because even those few seconds apart were enough to show Joonmyun how much colder the room is without his touch.

Baekhyun rolls his eyes. “Yeah, because I’ve never walked in on them in here.” His gaze trails over them both, speculatively, and Jongdae’s grip tightens.

“I’ll talk to them,” Joonmyun says with a sigh. “But now that we’ve all been scarred for life, can we go back to declaring the reference room a hookup-free zone?”

“I don’t know,” Baekhyun says, tilting his head. “You haven’t walked in on anything yet.”

“I’ve been working here for three years,” Joonmyun reminds him. “Trust me, I’ve been scarred.” He should really say something to someone about getting some cameras installed in this room. During months like this, when there aren’t many students here to utilize its resources, it makes far too convenient a place for patrons as well as employees to sneak away to.

“We won’t do it again,” Jongin says quickly, and nudges Baekhyun’s shoulder. Jongin probably won’t be able to look either of them in the eye for a week, Joonmyun thinks. Joonmyun will have to make it up to him somehow. “Right, hyung?”

“Soon everyone’s going to be in here writing papers, anyway,” Baekhyun says reluctantly.

Joonmyun’s not sure what to say once the other two leave, but Jongdae has no problem with breaking the silence. “You were so loud, hyung,” he says, tsking with mock-disapproval as he lets go of him and takes a step back. “Don’t you know this is a library?”

“The sound just carries in here,” Joonmyun objects automatically, though he’s thinking more about how he felt in that moment than how he probably sounded. Way over his head, he thinks again, and doesn’t mind at all.

Jongdae looks dubiously around the small, enclosed room with its many shelves and complete lack of anything that would amplify sound waves. “Right, hyung.”

“The real question is, did you really have to have your hand-”

“You wanted to be convincing, right? Baekhyun would’ve known if we’d been waiting around and not doing anything. I mean, the way you look right now…” Joonmyun wouldn’t have bought Jongdae’s nonchalance in any case, but even if he had, the way Jongdae follows his pointed up-and-down look with a quick gulp would have given him away completely. “You can’t fake that, hyung.”

“I guess not, if I look anything like you,” Joonmyun says. Disheveled—debauched, even—is a good look on Jongdae, he thinks; tests them both by giving Jongdae a lingering glance of his own, and his whole system jolts as Jongdae reflexively begins to reach out again, then forces his hands to go still like he’s hoping Joonmyun didn’t notice. 

He’s not sure if Jongdae is going to confess or not at this point, but maybe he shouldn’t have to. Maybe this should be in Joonmyun’s hands, even though he’s changed his mind about the gentle refusal he’d been planning to offer. “Good thing we have some time left. We shouldn’t go back out there like this.”

“You’re right,” Jongdae agrees with an unsteady laugh.

Joonmyun takes a half step forward and straightens Jongdae’s collar. He doesn’t remember unbuttoning his shirt but the first few are undone, so he takes his time refastening those, watches Jongdae’s throat bob as he lingers. “You can help, too,” he says, sparing him a glance.

Jongdae starts. “Right, here.” He starts smoothing Joonmyun’s hair—Joonmyun takes a moment to mourn how carefully he’d styled it that morning—while Joonmyun moves on to retying his bow tie, noting the hitch in Jongdae’s breathing when he not-quite-accidentally skims his fingers against Jongdae’s throat.

“Thanks,” Joonmyun says when he’s done, smiling brightly at him. “For everything, I mean. You were right; this is the best way to discourage them. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Jongdae’s eyes are fixed on him again, he notes, heat pooling in his stomach. “I’m glad I could help.”

“We should get back out there.”

“Right.”

“Oh, before I forget...” Before Jongdae can react, Joonmyun leans in and brushes his lips against his. “What are you doing after work?”

Stunned is a good look on Jongdae, too, Joonmyun decides with satisfaction.


End file.
